


Through Glass

by MovesLikeBucky



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aziraphale is strong and that's that on that, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley is into it and that's that on that, Established Relationship, M/M, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Strength Kink, Sweat, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Wall Sex, Zine: Bottoms Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:29:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27513109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MovesLikeBucky/pseuds/MovesLikeBucky
Summary: Crowley works in his greenhouse, relishing this beautiful life he gets to have in the aftermath of it all.  Aziraphale brings him a drink to stave off the heat.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 37
Kudos: 273
Collections: Top Aziraphale Recs





	Through Glass

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Bottoms Up Good Omens zine; this was my entry for the Bottom Crowley edition and was a collab with the lovely [Ryoukon](https://ryoukon.carrd.co)!

It’s a sweltering day in August, and the glass panes of the greenhouse only make it hotter. Crowley’s hair is up in a messy bun — flyaways stuck in the sweat on his neck. Didn’t even bother with a shirt today. He works seeds into soil, pressing them into starter cups on the worktable. The soil is cool beneath his hands; smells of earth and life and renewal. He loves this. The feel of earth between his fingers grounds him to this place they live, this choice that they made.

This is Crowley’s garden, his own bit of Eden. He gets to spend every day with his angel, here in this little cottage by the sea. Their own slice of paradise. A home, for the both of them. He still can scarcely believe it at times.

He hears the latch on the greenhouse door and turns to see his husband, making a rare pilgrimage to the dust and dirt of this place. Crowley smiles at Aziraphale, in his gaudy Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts. Looking for all the world like a tourist. Crowley’s heart is full to bursting.

“Bit of a heatwave today, dearest,” Aziraphale says, passing him a glass. “Strawberry and mint cordial, thought you might appreciate a cool down.” Aziraphale’s smile lights up the little room, dazzles everything around him. The sun is bright, but nothing compared to the sunshine of Aziraphale’s smile.

“Sounds lovely, angel,” Crowley says, going back to his seed starters. Aziraphale places a kiss to the back of his neck and Crowley hums in appreciation.

“How much longer do you think you’ll be?” Aziraphale’s breath is hot against the shell of his ear, making him shiver. Well-manicured hands ghost along Crowley’s ribcage, trail of fire in their wake. “I do miss you quite terribly.”

“I’ve only been out here a few hours,” Crowley slurs out, melting into Aziraphale’s touch. Aziraphale trails kisses along his sun-warm skin, undoing him with each press of lips.

“But it’s so lonely in the house without you, darling.” He can feel Aziraphale’s pout against his neck. His hands continue their journey, featherlight touches across his abdomen sinking lower, burning like holy fire. Aziraphale traces a finger along the waistband of his joggers. “You know how I get when I’m lonely.”

“Well now—” Crowley’s breath hitches at the teeth on his earlobe “—can’t have a lonely angel, can we? Might get up to some good deeds or something.”

“Hmmm,” Aziraphale hums, nuzzling his nose into Crowley’s hair despite the dirt and the sweat. “Can think of lots of good deeds to do.” Aziraphale’s hand dips under his waistband, finding Crowley already hard and wanting. It never takes much — a well-placed kiss, a tender caress — for Crowley to want his angel. A quick snap and Aziraphale’s hand is slick where it wraps around his cock, a slow languid motion that drives him crazy.

“Angel!” Crowley gasps out, his back arching, one arm wrapping around Aziraphale’s neck. Aziraphale nips at his neck then lathes over the spot with his tongue. It’s a firebrand on Crowley’s already heat-drenched skin.

“I could take you apart, dear, right here in your greenhouse, what would you think of that? Press you to the glass, let the neighbors see. Make you scream so loud everyone in the blasted village knows that you’re _mine_.”

Crowley stammers unintelligibly as Aziraphale’s thumb circles the head of his aching cock. He thrusts up into his hand, desperate for friction. Aziraphale grips his hip, holding him steady.

“No, no darling, I asked you a question.”

“Y-yes, Aziraphale — Satan, _fuck_ — I want you.”

Aziraphale lets go and Crowley turns in his arms. A clashing of lips and teeth, tongues seeking entry, finding familiar territory. Crowley quickly sheds his joggers, spindly fingers working open the buttons of Aziraphale’s gaudy monstrosity of a shirt and the zipper on his shorts without breaking the kiss.

Strong arms wrap around him, lifting him easily, pressing him to the glass of the greenhouse wall. Aziraphale’s skin is cool where Crowley’s is not, and the mingling sensations send a thrill through him. 

Aziraphale kisses down the long line of Crowley’s neck, running his tongue along the divot under Crowley’s Adam’s apple. “You taste divine, darling.” Aziraphale growls against his skin. He holds Crowley against the glass; one strong hand underneath him as the other frees his own erection. “So utterly beautiful and so mine.”

Aziraphale works him open, with one finger and then two, methodical as always, until Crowley is grinding down against his fingers and begging. Aziraphale obliges him, breaching Crowley’s entrance slowly and gently. Crowley hisses out a sigh as he sinks down onto Aziraphale’s cock. The glass at his back is hot and sears his skin; Aziraphale’s lips are like a matchstrike. He never wants to cool down again.

Aziraphale kisses him deeply as he thrusts into Crowley. “Do you like that, darling? Out here among the dirt and the plants? If I could drink the sweat from your skin—” he runs his tongue along a collarbone, sinks his teeth into Crowley’s shoulder “—I’d wish my thirst never quenched.”

He keeps a steady pace, gripping Crowley’s ass. His other hand wraps around Crowley’s aching prick and matches pace with his thrusts. Crowley wraps his arms tight around Aziraphale’s neck, relishing being impaled on his cock.

“Aziraphale— Angel, I’m—” Crowley gasps out between hitched breaths.

“Me too, darling. Come for me, Crowley.”

Crowley comes shouting Aziraphale’s name. His spend splatters the both of them as Aziraphale’s own release spills inside of him.

Crowley nuzzles his face into Aziraphale’s neck, content to exist here. 

“Well,” Aziraphale laughs into his hair. “That certainly is one way to spend an afternoon.”

Crowley kisses his cheek as Aziraphale gently pulls out and lowers him to the ground. “Better than what I had planned. Think I need a cold shower, it’s hot today.”

“Dreadfully so,” Aziraphale says as Crowley picks up his joggers. “Care for some…company?”

Crowley laces their fingers together, “Always, angel. Always.”


End file.
